Little God
by Slytherin'sBlackUnicorn
Summary: Their punishment was life. Their mission was to survive. "What will you do now little god? Do you truly care so much?" "Always" "Then we shall see little god."


**Disclaimer: Don't own Naruto, never will and never want to. **

**:P**

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He loved this world, very, very much so.

He loved it's flaws, its inhabitance, and it's very nature.

But most of all, he loved to watch them. They could feel and see what he could not. They faced problems and troubles he couldn't imagine knowing as a burden. He also knew this world was cruel, bitterly cruel, but that was okay. It also added to his love because, despite the harshness, the unfairness this world held, the people and animals still fought so hard. They fought tooth and nail to live and still found such happiness. He could never understand how, but then again, he wasn't them.

Then he met her, another friend. She was a person who once knew of a world parallel to his own, where technology was so vast and life was so different and yet the same from his own. She spoke of gigantic metal buildings and flying machines. A world were war was fought with guns and bombs instead of chakra and Kunai. He couldn't imagine a world with out either. It made him wonder what it was like to witness these people.

But now he wasn't a viewer any longer.

A choice that effects millions of lives was made so much easier when you weren't the one effected by it. You cared less about the individual lives you just manipulated and focus more on the whole world. He wanted his world to live, desperately so. He didn't want to see this world destroyed no matter how harsh or hellish it's reality could be. That's why he made his choice despite the laws, despite the rules, and knows full well he would be in trouble. He did not care.

Had it been a simple war then he would not have, had it just been another endless squabble with many more to come he could have held himself, but it was not and he could not. They would have all perished in that fake peace. It was no way to die and was certainly no way to _live_. They were dying, that world was dying and he had to help it.

Because, he loved it too much to ever see it die.

Fate be_ damned!_

He only regrets dragging the others along with him. It was _his choice. _He never meant for them to suffer for it as well. But one does not challenge a god and both had stood up for him, even knowing what he did was wrong. He should not have, but he couldn't have stopped himself. They were taught to stay out of the affairs of the mortals, but he could not. He cared too much for this world. He watched over it and he cherished it, faults and all. He cared for what he shouldn't have, he felt for the existences of the little beings that were trying so _hard _to fight. They wanted to live, to be free, to survive and he couldn't deny them that. He doomed himself, but he does not repent.

He remembers the scythe. That horrible, horrible scythe as it was tearing through him and his friends like a knifes through _butter_. Then there was the mind numbing, agonizing pain. It ripped their souls from their broken bodies. He remembers how he's felt fear and pain he hasn't know in a long, long time. He doesn't know how he'll survive this. He may know this world on a grander scale, but that doesn't mean he can survive it. Humans died so easily, and so fast here he could be dead sooner than he thinks.

But he excepts it for what it is and the pain faded to nothingness as a soul cannot stay conscious without the body to contain it. The next sensations came soon after and he had no idea how long his mind had been dormant.

Wet, Fear, cold, warmth, and hunger.

Such basic feelings were all his mind could process soon after. Any attempt to think or even concentrate took far too much effort and little reward. His sight was horrible, when he's conscious enough to notice. Everything's blurred and greatly exaggerated in size. Colors apeared dull and his ears were no better either. Despite knowing this language, everything is muffled and splotchy. He knew there were voices but he could not make out anything from them.

He didn't know exactly what was happening or who was around him, but he knew that things had only just begun for him and for the others. And he so he lets himself sleep. This body was exhausted and there was no way he can fight it. He did not know the person who holds him in the warmth of a blanket has just named him.

_"Kaede" _

Maple.

Now Kaede has lived long past that night. He's spent three full years here and he is learning. It is slow, it's gradual, and occasionally painful, but he is making progress. He has not died, but he is lonely. This home is big, but he has only one other to share with. The man hardly talks, but he teaches, cares and watches him daily. A smile here and there as he talks down to Kaede without knowing just how aware his little charge is.

There are others that come, but they are unseen. He feels their presence, their chakra, but they never snow themselves to his eyes. Always there, always watching, but invisible still. Then there's the grandfatherly man every week, the rare visit form the yellowed haired, blue eye male, and the strikingly cheerful red head that often comes and goes. They check over Kaede, but never ever do they stay.

The number of invisible chakra signals increase when they appear as well.

Kaede is polite with a smile and treats with them kind, but he signs himself to boredom along side his apathetic care taker.

It's going to be a long wait for the end of his lifespan.

_If he even makes it that far. _

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The room is spacious and filled with scowls of various size. The contents are simple and very kid friendly with knowledge written for the eyes of a young child, but they hold future lessons and could be turned into something deadly. The child that lives here knows all two well. She's just barely being taught how to hold and use the special brush to write. She's only recently gained enough mobility and coordination to do such. She can't read or understand them, yet, but she is learning quick enough.

Her father comes seven hours a day, four days a week to insure she's improving with each brush stroke and worded lesson given. He then leaves soon after and her care takers look after her. She does not question it or ask why, because there is no point. She does not mind his absence nor her mother and lacks the want for there affection.

She is silent and watches for opportunity gain some ground and understanding. They underestimate her and brush off her aloofness as a phase, when it is so much more.

Because,

Maaya, True Design, is three nearing four as she stares with blank indifference. It's a big contrast compared to the loud rhythm of her heart beat when ever her mind wanders to a particular topic. This body is old enough for her to fully show consciousness and she works from there. Maaya still has to struggle to stay as aware as she can though, but this body is still young and her soul is oh so very old. She expects this as her mind, her memories, were never wiped clean like when one went through the normal part of reincarnation.

But, this was punishment, ne. Why would she be given such a relief if this was so? It would defeat the purpose as she wouldn't remember _anything_.

Maaya traces the symbol on the floors of her bedroom. She's rarely let out of the room for reasons she can only fathom, but there are some good guess in her opinion. After all, clans have to protect what was theirs after all. She was an investment to their village and the value of what she could become was worth keeping hidden. Away from those like Kumo nin and common kidnappers that would _love _to get ahold of that special chakra.

She brushes the tiny low pigtail out of her way as she continues to look at the symbols. She had been one when she first took true notice of there nature. The swirl was a clan symbol and she was _not _stupid enough to brush up denial just because it would make her feel any better. She does not question how she lives here when this village should be dead this clan scattered around the world like roaches fleeing for safety.

She excepts it no matter how sweet blissful ignorance is and realizes that she's royally screwed. It was better than when she was two and believed herself to most likely die in an invasion that had yet to happen, but she was wrong. It wasn't that things hadn't happened yet it was that thing _didn't_. A Calendar was all it took, but while yes, it made her breath easier, it also left many more questions.

Like why didn't it happen. Their meddling shouldn't have altered _this _gruesome part of history, but here she was.

In the bloody village hidden by whirling tides, Uzushiogakure. _Damn, just damn!_

She often wonders about the others and tries to bite back what guilt she fills._ Because this is all her_ _FaultFaultFaultFaultFaul-_

_Stop,_

_Breath,_

It eats away at her because she had been the one who told him. She had been the one to tell it her friends were paying with her. She may have not pulled the trigger, but she sure as hell felt like the person who handed them the gun.

Kami, despite the shinigami's assurance of their inevitable meeting, she hoped the other two were not dead yet.

She stares at the birthmark on the center of her palm it's in the shape of a feather.

_After all,_

_There punishment was life,_

_They had to live towards the end their life span. _

_Now all they had to do was survive till then,_

_They could never return until such requirements were accomplished._

_Hah!_

_In this imperfect world, this reality, could be considered it's own version of hell when you've lived in paradise for so long. _

Maaya will be four when learns just what kind on contribution she will make and she will feel very much like a lamb sent of for the slaughter.

* * *

_\\\/_

_Thump, thump, thump, thump!_

He is Izo, meaning Iorn.

_Slice, splatter, crash!_

And how does he know he's Izo? Well, the lady continually repeating the name over and over again as she speaks and refers to him is the biggest clue, but the scarf wrapped around his own body has the kanji written on it and he can finally focus sight long enough to make out the word. Perhaps he really should giggle, laugh, act like the baby, his soul is trapped in to avoid suspicion, but he can't.

_Swoosh, thump, crash, swipe!_

There is nothing to laugh about. He has nothing to be happy about. He is afraid, very, _very _afraid and there is nothing that can be done. Not yet, not now, and not for a long time. He wish's his memories, his knowledge were gone so he could not remember. Despite being okay now, he can't call himself safe. He is paranoid, he fears, and he does not want to _die. _

_The screaming, the blood, the crying lady- oh kami her neck is ripped open!_

He does not want to remember how close things came to an end just _months into _this life.

_Dead, dead, dead. There all gone, ripped apart! Its a bloody massacre on the floor! _

He's glad a babies brain is still too young and fragile to process what the eyes and soul see into nightmares. Izo is glad babies don't dream vividly when they sleep. He is sure to have nightmares if they did. He will surely have nightmares, when his body gets old enough to process what he's seen and Izo dreads this so much. His mind haunts him when he's awake as it is, he does not need it to invade his dreams to. That's why Izo sleeps so much better than when he's awake enough to recall.

Babies can't have panic attacks right? _right?!_

He really hopes not_. _A loud bang, a sudden thump, every noise he can make out from those eleven month old ears make his breath go a little faster, his heart pump a bit more, and causes his body to shiver from the stress. Izo wants to live long enough to go back _home. _He plans, and he hopes and he waits to be old enough to survive.

_them,_

He shifts to a whole different direction of worry when he think about the others. Are they dead or alive? Will they survive long enough to make the requirements, will he? He pleads for them to not do something too wild. They are not stupid, but curiosity and boldness got them to this situation in the first place. As they all lacked the fear, the caution, and the self preservation to put that hand over their mouth and_ obey_. He could blame their ignorance on a lot of things, but it won't help none.

He thinks about his options, his situation and he comes up with what he _wont_ be doing in the near future.

Yes, the last thing Izo wants to be is a ninja.

That's a death sentence in the making.

* * *

**Just trying something out. **

**Kaede is also a unisex name. **


End file.
